


Nuka-World Wasteland

by lyrah99



Series: Nuka-World Wasteland [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blood and Violence, Character Death, F/M, Fallout 4 - Freeform, Family Loss, Gen, Gun Violence, Mild Language, Non-Sexual Slavery, Original Character(s), Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Vault 111, some racist/homophobic comments against ocs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 14:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19320250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrah99/pseuds/lyrah99
Summary: The Wasteland is an unforgiving place. Deathclaws, mirelurks, and all sorts of abominations roam the twisted, mutated surface and humans must survive in the middle of it all. Their future rests on the shoulders of two women. One, a recently widowed mother, desperate to find her child, who somehow gets pulled into the thick of the battlefield. The other is a woman who grew up in the wastes and sets her sights on raiders, and the control she could impose on the wasteland.(also posted on wattpad and fallout amino)





	1. Prologue

The clouds darkened up above as the sky filled with the sickly green wind of a radstorm. A hooded figure, limping and holding a bottle of beer in their hands stumbled forward through the streets of the fens.

They knew what back alleys to take to avoid the super mutants and raiders. They stumbled into the doors to the Combat Zone and threw the bottle to the side.

The bartender set down his glass and watched as the stranger walked past the common area and into Tommy Lonnegone's private residential area.

"Hey, you can't go there! Do you have a death-wish?" Blaze hopped over the bar counter and tried grabbing the arm of the stranger.

They yanked away from his grasp and pulled down their ragged hood, revealing a gaunt woman with swollen eye sockets, bruised and purple. She smiled, the scars at the corners of her mouth making her permanent smile even wider.

"You're back... Tommy still might kill you."

"I know Blaze. I have nowhere else to go. My situation has changed. Is he here?"

"He should be returning from a negotiation at Bunker Hill. I'm filling in for him."

She looked around at the large, post-war theater. Strings of lights hung from the ceiling and worn red cushioned seats were assembled all over the room, either facing each other or the stage. Bottles and used plates were scattered all over the tables, and debris littered the floor like every building in the Commonwealth. Smoke wafted up towards the ceiling, giving the room a permanent smog.

The people who spent their caps at the Zone all looked the same as well. Each one had the worn, wrinkled faces of weary travelers. Even the better-dressed ones who insisted on wearing the old faded suits tried to act like the dignified, wealthy businessmen they wished to be.

"I see nothing has changed."

"True. We've had one or two more raider customers than usual, but it's nothing to worry about- yet."

She turned to him, and stared, "Raiders? You allow them in?"

"Yeah, that's the one thing Tommy's changed. He says anything will do if it brings in more caps."

"I'm going to wait for him in my room. You tell him I'm here when he gets back."

"Alright, I want to know why you're back too Jayde." He patted her shoulder kindly and returned to the bar, serving the impatient wastelanders their drinks.

Jayde Lonegan walked down the secluded hallway until she reached her old room. Three years of dust coated the already-destroyed furniture. She plopped down into an armchair, coughing at the particles in the air. She sighed and looked across the room into the broken mirror hanging on the wall.

The broken surface reflected her tired, swollen face. Three years took a toll on her looks. Her black hair looked the same, but her eyes were deeper and wrinkles shown through the dust-caked onto her face. She frowned, the smiling scars a permanent reminder of the shitty life she led. It surprised her that Rig fell for someone like her. Maybe he didn't.

She leaned forward looking at the bruises on her face to prove her doubts. Maybe Rig only used her. She didn't know anything anymore, other than that she belonged in the Combat Zone.

The door slammed open and she whisked her head around at the intruder, only to see her brother, Tommy Lonegan, breathing heavily as he stared at her.

"I heard you were back," he glared at her, his hazy blood-shot eyes running her over.

She could almost feel his gaze on each of her bruises and brushing along her scars.

"I'm surprised you aren't rotting somewhere in the fens."

"Would you rather that I did?"

The room fell silent as they battled each other in their minds, until finally, Tommy sat down next to her, folding his arms.

"You know that I care for you," He told her, in a raspy monotone voice.

"Oh please, I can always tell what you're thinking."

"Well, how did you think I would react when I find out my younger sister ran away to become a raider, one of the vilest creatures in this world."

"One of the vilest things? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"That's uncalled for!" He stood up enraged, "You're not the best looking right now either! At least my looks have benefits," he glances quickly at the mirror, running a finger down the scars caused by his ghoulification.

"So," He looked away from the mirror and ran his fingers through the little hair he had left, "why did you come back?"

She let out a shaky breath and rested her hands in her lap.

"I met a guy-"

"A raider?"

"Let me finish the story!"

"Ok," he shrugged defeatedly and sat down again.

"I met a raider," she glared at him then returned to look into the mirror, "in the second year I was gone. I had joined this one group working near this abandoned apartment building complex in Lexington. It was a good set up. We would attack caravans from above and then relocate to always have the upper hand on trade routes. He was a raider who would give us our information straight from Bunker Hill. He'd sometimes come down and take his share of the spoils.

"It wasn't that long until we noticed each other. Raiders don't like talking about personal shit. But he was different. Maybe it's because he worked out of Bunker Hill. His name was Rig.

"He promised that... that he would.... He'd take me away into a settlement and set up shop there. He found out I was the main weapon keeper in the group really. He said he'd take me away.

"But I didn't want to leave at first. I had left the Zone to explore the 'wealth in the first place- to live and see all the ruins. It took a while before I soon became bored with our set-up. That's when I decided to run. My gang followed me all the way to Boston. I may have stolen all their ammo," she chuckled and rubbed her sore eye.

"I couldn't find Rig. He was supposed to be at the Old Corner bookstore, waiting for me. But he wasn't there and I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Please, can I stay here for a while? Just until my old gang passes through and gives up?"

She grabbed his scarred hands and pleaded with her eyes.

"Alright. Just until everything cools down. I still don't know if I want to forgive you for leaving this place to me. But I made some improvements, so no caps were lost when you left."

"Yeah, I heard. So you're letting in Raiders now?"

"Who told you?"

"Blaze."

"Of course. Yes, I am. They surprisingly have good caps. They'll pay anything to drink beer and watch a fight."

"Well, if that's everything-" he stood up and stretched his back and glanced back at her, eager to go back to running the Zone.

"Not exactly... you see..."

"What?"

"I came back for another reason as well, Tommy."

"What is it?"

She laid her hand on her stomach and smiled sheepishly.

"I'm pregnant."

After three long days passed, a Doctor from Goodneighbor entered the Combat Zone, shaking off the rainwater from his shoulders and shook out his hair.

He had been hired by the famed Tommy Lonegan, owner of the Combat Zone, to examine his younger sister, recently returned from raiding. He had traveled from Goodneighbor as soon as he received his most recent supply shipment.

Traveling to and from Goodneighbor was always a risky business. Mutant patrols didn't have systematic schedules they followed. In one day, an unfortunate traveler could encounter hostile robots, mutant dogs, raiders, or nothing at all. Luckily his travels were more similar to the latter. He hated to admit it, but fighting was not one of his strong suits. Maybe it was why he focused on helping others heal after their own battles, while not being involved with them himself.

He glanced over at the Cage area in the center stage of the Combat Zone, grimacing in disgust. The floors and main area was disgusting, rotting dandy boy apples sitting on tables while crowds of wastelanders shouted from behind the metal wire, loudly praying to the competitors to win. They wanted their caps back and more.

How could anyone subject themselves to such violence?

He shook his head and approached the bar, tired of standing around and ready to meet his new client.

"You must be the Doctor Lonegan is bringing in, right?"

Doctor Lowe smiled and held his duffle bag in his lap.

"How could you tell?"

"Well, you haven't ordered anything yet, and you look a little cleaner than most folk who come up here for a drink."

"Oh," his smile faltered and looked back at the rowdy crowd.

"Plus you're wearing that white doctor's coat," Blaze chuckled and wiped a glass cleaner for him.

"Here, a purified water, on the house," he winked and walked away, leaving the good doctor flustered.

He hated to admit that he didn't like alcohol that much. He chugged the water down, slammed it on the bar and walked towards what he guessed led to Lonegan's office, saluting Blaze on his way.

A mercenary stepped in front of him, his face scarred from countless past battles.

"Right this way Doc," the black man led Doctor Lowe into the next room, where Tommy Lonegan sat at his desk, typing on a faulty typewriter.

"Ah, you're finally here. I was wondering if you were going to show up at all Doctor." Tommy stood from his desk and walked up the Lowe, staring him down. "I would think you would have taken less time traveling here, arriving a day after I left perhaps. I hope you don't continue to lack in precision when you're taking care of my sister."

"Of course not Mr. Lonegan. You know I have to have monthly supplies delivered," he assured, "Your sister is of utmost importance."

"She better be," Tommy started walking away and waved at the Doctor to follow.

They both walked down into the basement, a secluded room from the rest of the Combat Zone, safe from any flying beer bottles or the smoke in the common area.

Jayde Lonegan stood at a weapon workbench, tinkering away at one of her custom pipe-pistols.

"This is my sister, Jayde Lonegan," Tommy held his hand out, pointing at her.

She continued to focus on her project but half-heartedly lifted her hand in greeting.

"Jayde, this is the Doctor to help you with your delivery. You could show a little gratefulness."

"Sorry Tommy," she laughed lightly and turned around, wiping grease onto her forehead as she pulled stray hairs back out of her eyes.

Lowe's heart choked up and he stood there, watching this woman. Her stomach was small still, but obviously a pregnancy bump. Even with grease on her face and scars at the corners of her mouth, her eyes still pierced into his brain. Something about her face could not let him look away.

"Doctor...?"

He cleared his throat, "L-lowe. My name. And yours?"

She rolled her eyes, "Jayde? Were you listening to my brother a second ago?"

"Sorry."

"I would think a doctor had more focus than you."

"I'm- I'm sorry. I'm a little weary from my travels and to be frank, it's not a common sight to see a pregnant woman in the Commonwealth."

She held her stomach warily, Rig's face flashing through her mind.

"I'll leave the two of you alone then." Tommy waved at Jayde and walked back up the stairs, closing it behind them. The Merc stood outside the door as Lonegan walked away.

"So, why did my brother hire you again?" She turned back to her gun and Lowe walked over to watch her work.

"Well, I've dedicated myself to learn everything I can about pre-war and post-war medicine. I travel around mainly settlement to settlement, sometimes staying there for a certain amount of time depending on how much I'm needed. Tommy found me in Goodneighbor."

"I heard."

She screwed something into the pistol and tweaked a piece of metal with a wrench.

"Anyways," he drew another breath and continued, realizing she wasn't open to talking, "he wanted someone to make routine check-ups on you throughout your terms-"

"Terms?"

"It means your stages of pregnancy. Anyways, I'm supposed to make sure everything seems ok, and then once you get closer to delivery, I'll stay and make sure everything works out as it should."

"Interesting..." she mumbled as she emptied and reloaded bullets into the pistol, testing the mechanism.

Lowe watched in vain as she looked over her creation. She wasn't paying attention to him at all. Did she even want his help?

"If I may ask-" he grabbed his pockets at his waist and fiddled with the cloth, "- Who is the father?"

She paused and pointed the gun at him. She pulled the trigger and the blast roared in his ears, the sharp wind of the bullet passing his face, freezing him in that spot.

The guard outside poked his head inside the room.

"Everything alright Miss Lonegan?"

"Yes, everything is fine. I got my pistol to finally work." she smiled at him.

The merc chuckled and closed the door after seeing the petrified doctor.

"You may leave now. You can do my first check up later after you've gotten a drink to settle your nerves... you look a little on edge," she smirked and walked away into the next room.

Doctor Lowe returned to the bar and ordered a glass of Whiskey. He could feel her watching him- he turned around and saw her conversing with her brother. Tommy looked at him and laughed as Jayde spoke to him, most likely about the doctor.

Lowe swiftly turned back to his drink and slouched, his face reddening from both the alcohol and embarrassment.

___________

Doctor Lowe came into the Combat Zone every month, trying to help Jayde prepare her for the difficulties of giving birth in the Commonwealth. To be honest, he'd only helped bring children into the world three times- and one of the infants didn't make it. From what he's heard from his travels, it was quite common for either the child or the mother to die during childbirth. The Wasteland had no mercy no matter how old its victim was.

Radiation stunted growth in young children. Some women never made it to their delivery date- starvation and mutant attacks were far too common when they lived in a secluded settlement.

Doctor Lowe worried about Jayde's child. He didn't know how her drinking would affect it, or if the Combat Zone was the safest place to raise a child. The threat of a raider attack grew every day and the fens outside were constantly immersed in danger and war between raiders, traders, and mutants.

As the months passed by, Doctor Lowe started to visit Jayde more than just her scheduled visits. He entered the Combat Zone after a long day, just as the sun began to set.

"What do you have for me today Doctor?" She laid on the worn couch in the basement of the Zone, a partly-ripped Grognak magazine in her hands.

"I went by the old Boston Library a while ago and picked some books for you."

"Yay, more books to bore me out of my mind," she sighed and rested the comic down and rested her head against the armrest.

"I know it's hard not going anywhere, but you should consider yourself lucky. Most pregnant women have to live out there in the wasteland and farm and fight off mutants instead of living in comfort under the Combat Zone."

"Comfort? This is torture."

"It's the safest option if you want to have this child in safety."

"I used to be a raider, damn it. I would shoot up mutants and kill caravan guards just to live. I'm going to go out of mind waiting here. Tommy doesn't even want me to hang out at the bar."

"You can't drink-"

"I know! I just want to hang out in the Zone like I used to."

The doctor laid the books down in front of her and sat near her feet.

"What if someone from your old gang comes in and finds you? You want to have this baby right?"

"Yes."

He stared at her, trying to choose the right words before he spoke. Even if she was pregnant, she could still hurt him.

"Why?"

"Why? Why what?"

"Why do you want this child Jayde?"

She glared at him and sat up quickly, causing him to flinch.

"I-" her gaze softened into defeat and her posture slumped as her lack of energy took hold of her, "I'm not really sure. I barely remember my parents. They died years ago before I joined my gang. Having this kid, well, maybe it will make everything ok again. It would mean me and Rig meant something."

They sat in silence, watching the oil lamp flicker.

"But that's just a lie I tell myself," she sighed.

He moved closer to her and warily wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"That's one thing I don't understand," He whispered, watching her eyelids drop lower as the night grew late.

"What Lowe?"

"Why he would leave someone like you."

She side glanced at him, and the corners of her mouth slowly formed a smile.

"You always know the right thing to say, don't you Lowe."

She rested her head into his shoulder and they stayed there, isolated from the rest of the commonwealth. A mutant could break through the walls above them and they wouldn't want to move from the others comfortable embrace.

\---------------------------------------------------

Jayde Lonegan felt contractions. She sat up from the couch, resting her book down from her lap. She grimaced as the pain surged, then faded away. She hobbled up from her seat, her large belly making her imbalanced. She slowly made her way to the door, but stopped, leaning against the wall as she felt a few more warnings that the child was on their way.

She opened the door and peered out.

"Tommy? Lowe?"

"Miss Lonegan?" A mercenary guard looked in from the other side of the hallway leading to the stairs. "Do you need anything?"

"Tell Tommy- ugh- tell him it's started..."

The guard's eyes went wide and he took off up the flight of stairs, and she went to the elevated bed Lowe and Tommy had assembled.

She laid down, counting between the contractions, remembering Doctor Lowe's lecture about what was going to happen to her. The pain continued to grow with each new wave and she gripped the iron bar near the side of the bed, her skin growing hot from the stress.

"Jayde, are you alright?" Tommy stepped in the room and walked over, wearing an undershirt and jeans.

"I can't remember ever seeing you not in a suite Tommy."

"I didn't want it to get messy in case I had to help..."

Jayde glanced at the closed door.

"Where's Lowe? Is he not here?"

"I couldn't find him. He hasn't arrived yet. You are a little early."

"I know, but- I need him, Tommy, I don't think I can do this- ah-" She grit her teeth and inhaled sharply, "- I can't do this without him."

Tommy, for the first time in his life, was at a loss. He was always the one in charge. He ran the zone. He hired caravan workers and threw out violent drunkards. But this was different. He had no control. His sister was in pain and he didn't know how to help her.

"Yes you can Jayde," he tried to tell her with confidence, but even he didn't know if it was true.

Jayde started screaming and Tommy looked down- which was a big mistake. He turned around, still in shock.

"Stop being a big ass and help me!" She screamed at him and yelled as the child started being pushed through.

"Right... uh," He swiveled around and found the shelf of purified water, and opened the tops, pouring it all over his hands and arms. Lowe had told him being clean was important.

He went to her waist and tried looking again.

"Alright, Jayde, push!"

"I'll push when I'm damn ready to push!" She kicked at him and screamed again.

Seconds went by and she fell quiet and he glanced up at her face, watching beads of sweat drip down her forehead.

"You're doing great Jayde," He calmly stated, holding the child's head as she pushed. She didn't respond, as all she could do was breathe deeply.

The child finally arrived into Tommy's hands, wet and wriggling around, reaching for its- her- mother. Tommy looked at Jayde and brought the infant closer, handing her the newborn.

"You have a daughter."

"Oh no, you know how troublesome I was," Jayde panted, smiling faintly.

A wave of discomfort flashed through her face.

"Hold her for a moment, please," she rested her head, and he picked up the child, worried.

Jayde's skin flushed white and her breathing picked up at a fast rate.

"Jayde...?"

"Tommy, I'm still bleeding aren't I?"

"I thought that was just the third stage Lowe talked about?"

"If I die from this Tommy-"

"You'll heal. You'll get better after this Jayde-"

"Don't interrupt me you i-idiot," she glared into his eyes, her pupils dilated.

"Her name is Zora V. Please remember that. And promise me one thing, Tommy. Look into my eyes while I say it!"

He stared at her and she reached for his arm.

"Never let her become a raider. Promise me."

"I promise. Jayde- I can't raise her myself-"

"I think you just might have to..."

She exhaled her last breath as the tortured ex-raider she was, finally free of the commonwealth and its monsters, but, unknowingly, she added her own monster into the world. 

 

(Author'sNote: I can't believe I'm actually going to start posting my fallout fanfic! I've been planning for a long time now and I've only just finished writing out the prologue. Stay tuned, because I have a goal of completing at least one chapter per month since I'm a little busy with college stuff. Anyways, thanks for reading and please, feel free to leave feedback.)


	2. An Atomic Awakening

A woman out of time. Seconds before the bomb dropped, she had a house. A family. A newborn son who would someday make her and her husband proud.

The world was in turmoil. The threat of Nuclear warfare was the talk of the town, even cities. Children in schools learned how to duck under their desks if there was ever a bombing, but everyone knew that nothing would be able to save them from the blast and the fallout that followed an atomic bomb. They covered their heads under desks and whispered to each other, giggling and forgetting the solemn reason they ran their drill. They would be playing games with their hands and then the drill was over and recess began.

Annalee looked at the children playing in the playground on the school campus as she hoisted her toolbox up onto her ladder. Oil covered her gloves as she looked through her tools, finding the bits and screws she needed to fix the classroom's ancient projector. All this fusion powered technology these days yet the school still used machines that were made thirty years ago.

She accidentally nudged her wrench off of her step and it clanked onto the floor below her. She sighed and with heavy steps down her ladder, she retrieved it to continue her job as a simple handyman. Or handywoman, as she liked to call it. She often missed the days of sitting at her workbench, designing machines for companies. She had received her degree in Mechanical Engineering back in California, but after her company fired her when she became pregnant with Shaun, she decided to become a contracted mechanic. She already had the basic skills so she might as well continue to use them.

Nate was still at home, watching Shaun. He had protested about her going back to work, but she wanted to take one job and see how she did. All she wanted to do at the moment was to return home and see her son again. She didn't realize she would miss him so much for even a few hours back on her job.

She heard the children scream and laugh as they ran around in the field outside. She smiled, imagining Shaun as a child, running along with them. Good years were ahead of them.

She returned home from her work and immediately collapsed onto the couch, kicking off her work boots and let out a sigh.

"Honey, you're back! How was your day at work?" Nate sat next to her and leaned down to look into her eyes.

"Tiring. How was Shaun?" She mumbled into the couch, ready to fall asleep. She readjusted herself so she was now laying in his lap.

"He was the perfect child," Nate laughed and rested his hand on her head, stroking his fingers through her vibrant blue hair.

She strained her neck to look at him and laughed, spotting the very-recent burping stains on his shirt.

"Perfect child... sure..." She rested back down and let him continue to brush through her hair, out of her usual ponytail.

"Are you sure you want to start working again? I mean, we are getting the money for my leave..."

"I know, but I just want to prepare for if you have to leave again," she said, looking out from where she lay, the whole room at an angle.

"We don't know that yet," Nate stopped stroking her hair and stared at her.

He wasn't there when she gave birth to Shaun, but he didn't know anyone stronger than the woman he loved. To bo honest with himself, he wasn't even sure he knew her enough. If someone looked at their history together, they may say that they had a sort of shotgun wedding. They had found each other at the end of both their college careers and instantly clicked. They hurried and got married before he left for the war, not even spending a week for their honeymoon.

He returned to their suburban house, scarred by the war, and the only thing he wanted was to jump back into that honeymoon phase and live with her. But a distance had grown between them when he had gone away, and it had continued to grow with the passage of time that he spent fighting communists.

She had to wait for him at home while he fought. And now another war loomed just around the corner.

He could feel it.

The weight of atomic annihilation weighed heavy in the air, and just like his time in the 2nd Battalion, he knew when something dangerous was about to occur. The faint crackle before a plasma bomb. The small whistle of a missile before it turned into a tea kettle scream of death.

And something in the air above Boston whistled. It wailed in his dreams and late at night when he held Shaun alone in their nursery.

He hoped it was post-war paranoia.

Halloween was just around the corner and Annalee had planned for their family to go to the neighborhood party and dress up Shaun for the first time. It was nice finally being able to rest in his own home with his wife. And their newly bought robot butler, Codsworth. He had bought the Mister Handy as a surprise for Annalee, knowing she would love to upgrade him and program him. Maybe the machine would help her if something ever happened to him.

They laid on the couch, enjoying the movements of each other's breathing and he ran his fingers through her hair. She had surprised him one day by returning from her job with her hair dyed, along with a case of nuka cola quantums for the both of them to enjoy.

He watched her now, her dark brown upturned eyes closed and the daylight highlighting the freckles on her face, along with the golden particles in the air, floating in the window above their kitchen.

"I have some dinner cooking."

"Please be steak, please be steak, please be steak..." She mumbled, trying to hold in a laugh.

"And it's steak!"

"Yes! How did you know I wanted that today?" She shot up and looked into his eyes, beaming.

"I just guessed. And... it was kind of your comfort food when you were still pregnant with Shaun," Nate laughed and kissed her on the lips, both of them still smiling.

Her lips tasted like her cherry red lipstick.

"Well then, I guess I should get changed," she winked and stood from the couch, walking down the hallway only to enter Shaun's nursery.

Nate could hear her cooing over him and he chuckled to himself. He stood up and approached the counter, readying the knives and silverware for their meal.

"Hey, Codsworth?"

"Yes, Sir?" The hovering mechanical butler exited the bathroom, a spray bottle and cloth still in his grip.

"Do you mind setting the table while I finish dinner?"

"Of course sir! You know, my model has also been equipped with almost every popular American recipe?"

"Yes, but I wanted to make it myself. A little special thing for my love," Nate smiled and started cutting the steak.

"Alright, if you say so," the robot started to take out the silverware and whistled a mechanical tune as he worked.

Nate glanced down the hallway, still seeing Annalee's shadow coming from the nursery. He started heating up the steaks. It might take her a while.

\----------------------------------

She woke up disoriented. How could she have fallen asleep? She had entered Shaun's nursery... no -she had only just stepped into the decontamination pod- she looked down at her hands and the window in front of her, the vague image of her husband and child's pod outside across the room. Had they... frozen her?!

She reached forward and with stiff numb fingers, she knocked on the glass. She tried to speak, but her voice was too dry.

The fog on the window started to fade and she could see new people in the room, in strange suits and a bald man. One of the suited men opened Nate's pod. She held the window, watching in anticipation. Why wouldn't they let her out too?

"N-Nate-" she whispered hoarsely.

"Hey, it's alright. Here, hand us the kid." He beckoned towards Nate.

The suited man reached up to take Shaun.

"No," Nate coughed and drew his son closer to his chest.

"Don't worry. Just give us the child," the bald man reached down and drew a pistol, pulling back the hammer.

"Nate!" Annalee pounded on the window, trying to get his attention.

She couldn't think. She started having trouble breathing as the walls around her suddenly seemed to close in on her, and her face became hot, even in the chill of the pod.

"I'm not giving you Shaun!" Nate growled and tried to wrestle the child away from the suited man, but the bald man raised up his weapon and fired, the gunshot ringing out into the rest of the vault.

Her heart seemed to stop. She didn't even watch as her child was removed from Nate's arms. She couldn't breathe as the bald man walked up to her window and looked her over behind the glass. He had a large scar across his right eye and a gruff voice.

"Let's get out of here. We'll keep the back-ups alive."

He walked away and she pounded on the window, finally able to move again after the shock. She was too late. She looked over to her husband as the ice started to spread once more across the glass and the cold entered her lungs before she could let out a cry.

Dreams of whistling robots and exploding mushroom clouds swarmed her mind as she slept, unable to move, and unable to see where she was. She didn't know what had happened. She entered the vault after the bomb fell, but what happened after was blurred. And it was bitter cold and dark. She would run forward, only to fall off a hidden ledge and plunge deeper into the void, falling over and over again in her dreams.

A crying sounded in the dark and she knew it was her child, Shaun. She cried after him to tell him he was going to be ok, but she couldn't find him in the darkness. His crying echoed all around her and a gunshot sounded off along with her own screams. It repeated each time she fell and every time she hit the cold floor, her heartbeat surged, trying to wake her up.

But the cold numbing feeling seeped into her skin and kept her asleep and unaware of the passage of time. It muffled the crying and the gunshot until she could no longer hear it and only the darkness remained.

A sudden burst of fresh oxygen entered her lungs and her stiff eyelids fluttered open, a sharp pattern of breaths exiting her lungs. She fell forward as the cryogenic pod opened and she could see again. Her hands and knees hit the floor and she shuddered as she laid down, trying to rub her limbs to increase her circulation.

She looked over down the large hall of pods, each one opening, with her fellow vault residents falling out as well, disoriented after having slept for so long under cryogenic sleep. The man next her fell to the floor and looked at her, both of them for a loss of words.

"Is- Is everyone alright?" A woman cried out at the end of the hall.

They all took a while to process the words. They were still living. Everyone stretched their limbs and cried out as decades worth of aches popped through their cold joints.

"Are you alright?" The man next to her asked, concern filling his green eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said slowly, trying to remember something that had happened. She couldn't remember if it had been a coma-induced dream. All she could recall was an infant crying and a loud bang. Something falling? No- wait.

A gunshot.

She held her mouth with her hand realizing what had happened. It couldn't be true, she shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks.

She looked up at the cryogenic pod towering across from her.

It had opened automatically along with the others, but nothing with breath stirred from within. The body of her husband lay skewed across his seat, his arms empty and her infant son missing.

"No..." she whispered and tried to stand again, but she fell to the floor, the man next to her managing to catch her in time. Her legs were still too weak. She pushed him away and crawled towards Nate's body at a loss for words.

She trembled, reaching for him, both from her sobs and the cold.

"They're gone. They're both gone!" She cried out and stood, cupping Nate's stiff face, only to draw back sharply after seeing the large gaping hole where his right eye and temple had been.

Those around her stood awkwardly silent, knowing the highly personal nature of the loss they were witnessing. Then they remembered the loved ones who were outside the vault when the bombs fell. They may be dead- along with the rest of the world.

"I can't believe they tricked us," a man finally broke the silence and they all looked around.

The vault had certainly not been made for them to live in, but for the Vault-Tec scientists to experiment on them. Freeze them.

"Do you think our homes are still intact?" Mrs. Whitfield asked.

"No, honey, I don't think it is," her husband reached over and they embraced, "let's get out of here," he said.

One by one, each married couple started exiting the room, leaving behind their cold time capsules that had saved them from atomic death up above.

Jason Connolly kneeled down next to Annalee and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Let's go with them, ok? We've been down here far too long," he rubbed her shoulder to warm her up and she stood, trying to wipe away her tears, her frozen mascara flaking away with some of her eyelashes as well.

"Alright," she shuddered and turned to Nate's body, a gold shine catching her eye. She softly reached towards him and held his hand, but no warmth had returned to his body. She slipped his wedding ring off and placed it above hers. The burning cold metal barely slipped over her short thick finger.

"Now I'm ready." She stood back and closed his pod.

Jason held her by her arm and helped her walk away. He looked for anyone else, but all the other neighbors had gone their own way, leaving Annalee to grieve. He didn't even know this woman and he was helping her- what neighbors the others must have been, he scoffed.

Shrill screams sounded out from ahead of them and they both jogged towards the sound.

Cindy Cofran, a young teenager, hid behind her father's back and stared at the creature that had just lunged towards her moments before.

A giant cockroach lay in the middle of the floor, one of its legs still twitching as its insides oozed out of its broken shell.

"What the hell...?" They looked at the giant bug, a disgusting new specimen.

Mrs. Whitfield started fanning herself with her hands, looking as if she would faint.

"Is this what the war has done to the world? Create these monstrosities?" Mr. Pietro asked, leaning forward to examine the bug.

"What happened to everyone else?" She pointed at a skeleton in the far corner of the room, a pistol still in its grasp. Mr. Whitfield walked over and took the gun.

"Honey, what are you going to do with that?" Mrs. Whitfield's shrill voice cried out. Her husband had never held a gun in his life, or so she thought. Surely her world hadn't changed that much...

"Janette, we don't know if there's anything else out there. This roach attacked that poor girl!"

"Oh my god the world has ended," Molly Cofran cried out and hugged her daughter, sobbing.

"Everyone calm down. Let's just keep going up alright? We can't make any conclusions yet," Jason spoke up. Maybe he could try and prevent this group of suburban couples from entering a full on panic mode. Why did he have to be the one with reason?

Annalee looked up at him. She wanted to comfort them, but she felt like she was still frozen in time. She tried to push away the image of Nate from her mind. Maybe that hadn't been him. Maybe he was somewhere else in the Vault, still frozen. But she couldn't keep lying to herself. The gunshot still echoed in the depths of her mind and every time she closed her eyes, she could see the gaping hole in his head.

They all started walking again and she let go of Jason's arm.

"Thank you," she whispered and he looked down at her and stared at her for a few seconds before realizing she had spoken.

"No problem, uh..."

"Annalee. And my husband is Nate. You don't live on my street do you?"

"No, I live in Lexington, but I was visiting Concord for a few days. I was looking at one of the houses on sale in your neighborhood when everything went down. I don't know why they wanted me for the Vault though."

They walked on in silence.

"So are you married?"

"No, but I had someone special back in Lexington but with the bombs..."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" she crinkled her nose as she shook her head, "-I'm sorry. I'm just not thinking straight right now."

"It's ok Anna. Can I call you that?"

"Sure," she answered.

They finally drew closer to the Exit Zone and another giant cockroach emerged from behind a skeleton.

Mr. Whitfield promptly shot it multiples times ensuring it wouldn't scuttle away.

"Ooh, a pip-boy!" Cindy ran forward and removed a portable wrist computer from the skeleton.

"Cindy- oh Lord- don't touch the body!" Mrs. Cofran cried out rushed over to her daughter, kicking the skeleton aside and away from them. It clammered down below the stairs and she stared back at her neighbors, shrugging it off.

"What?"

Cindy locked it onto her arm and turned it on.

"How do we open the vault?" Mr. Pietro suddenly asked.

Annalee stepped up to the control board, looking the buttons up and down, "I think you need to use the Pip-Boy to unlock the access to the release button."

"Hey," Jason beckoned the others to a metal crate he had pried open, " I found some more, I think there is enough for everyone to have one."

They each took a pip-boy from the crate, something most likely made for the scientists of the vault.

"Do you want to do the honors?" Jason turned to Annalee.

"Sure," she said warily and detached the wire from the device and plugged it into the control board.

A glass case above one of the buttons opened up and she pressed it down, and a giant creaking arose from the elevator shaft. The platform slowly started to descend.

"This is it..." Jason muttered under his breath.

He watched as the couples and other people he still didn't know start to board the elevator. He walked towards it himself and looked back at the woman with the bright blue hair stand on the metal grate, looking back down the hallway that led back to the cryogenic pods.

"Annalee?" He said her name, trying to get her attention.

She stood there, silently, as if waiting to hear the footsteps of her loved one walking towards her, miraculously healed and ready to hold her in his arms once more. But nobody came. They were all waiting for her on the elevator.

She hastily wiped a tear from her eye and rushed to join them. She really needed to stop acting so helpless and lost in front of everyone.

A woman near the front pushed a button and they all started rising up, the opening above them revealing a bright pale blue sky. The air started to become fresher and after an unknown amount of time, they saw the sun once again shining down on their now destroyed homes.

He watched them exit the vault entrance. He had received word that an undiscovered vault was rumored to be somewhere north of Concord, but no one knew if the rumor was true or not.

He watched as the dwellers started walking down the hill towards the neighborhood and two of them caught his eyes. Even with his sunglasses on, he could see the bright blue hair of a short chubby woman, and next to her was a tall, well-built man. They walked together silently and every so often the woman with the blue hair would look back.

Could she tell he was there? He was only in a makeshift viewpoint a hill or two away from the vault, but she shouldn't be able to notice him. She turned back and continued walking, unaware of their watcher.

Desdemona told him to go check the vault out, sure that if it contained any pre-war tech, then the Institute might be interested in it. So far he hadn't had a chance to open it himself until it suddenly opened on its own and out came the vault dwellers. They looked like a group of lost children. He knew for a fact that not all of them would make it since he doubted anything in the vault could prepare them for the world above ground.

\----------------------------------

They arrived in Sanctuary after a short walk down from the vault entrance. A strange whistling noise was heard, and Annalee smiled and ran towards where the ruined walls of her house stood.

"Codsworth? Is that you?!" She cried out and lunged at the floating machine trimming the dead bushes on her front lawn.

"Mum? I can't believe my eyes, it really is you? And where is the Sir and little Shaun? Where have you been the last 200 years?"

She let go of him and stepped back from him.

"What? You're joking right?"

"Mum, why would I joke about something so trivial as that?"

"You mean, we've all been asleep for 200 years?"

"Hey what did she say?" Mr. Able finally spoke up, walking up behind her, his large wife in tow.

"Oh my God," Mrs. Cofran held her mouth, staring wide-eyed at her neighbor's Mister Handy, "Surely it must be joking- malfunctioning maybe? He can't really mean that?"

"I'm afraid it's true. You all have been absent from your homes for quite some time now," Codsworth whirred around to stare back at Annalee, his three eyes focusing on her.

"I'm sure if we keep looking around the neighborhood, perhaps we'll find your family?"

"No Codsworth! Just stop!" She raised her voice at him, clenching her teeth. He hovered away, suddenly taken aback by his mistress's anger.

Her glare fell away and she sat on the steps up to her home, her knees bending up to her chest.

"What do I do now? What do we all do?" She looked up at her neighbors surrounding her, all of them avoiding her gaze.

"We can rebuild?" Cindy spoke up timidly.

Jason looked at the young teenager. How could she find any hope in this situation?

Cosworth's mechanics chirped inside and he floated towards her, bobbing up and down as if agreeing with her statement.

"Young miss, that is a wonderful idea. I know people have often traveled through here, so you all aren't all alone in this world."

He looked at Annalee and spoke softly, "Mum, perhaps people in Concord could help you with your search?"

Annalee rested her arms on her knees, looking at the hovering butler.

"Alright. I'll go," she stood, pushing against her leg to boost herself up, "I have to start somewhere..."

"I'll go with you," Jason looked down at her from where he stood, towering over her. He had questions whose only answers could be found in Lexington, miles away past Concord.

"I'll go as well," Mr. Cofran walked up, and Molly reached out, pulling him back.

"No, you don't! You saw those disgusting creatures in the vault. Who knows what else is out there!" She cried out, pulling her husband closer to their family.

"Maybe I could try and get other's help in Concord. Bring them back to Sanctuary to settle. Molly, I want to help you in any way I can."

"You're not going to help me by dying out there."

"We don't know what's out there Molly. Someone has to go out and return with information. I have a feeling the other two aren't returning once they've explored Concord."

Mr. Pietro stepped forward, wrapping his arm around the other man's shoulders.

"Don't worry Mrs. Cofran, I'll take care of your husband for you," he smiled and winked at them, and Mr. Cofran chuckled.

"I guess you can always count on old golfing buddies huh?"

"I'm still not sure honey," Molly still held onto his sleeve, but her grip was softening.

"We'll be back with more settlers honey. I promise," he kissed his wife and hugged his daughter, holding them close.

The team of recently released vault dwellers left the others in the front lawn of Annalee's old home. She glanced back and watched as Codsworth started flying from house to house, clearing out any mutated pests that had built their nests in the residents' absence.

They walked down a short way across a bridge, passing the rotting corpse of a man and a horribly disfigured dog and arrived at the gas station just outside of town.

A whine came from the inside of the station and they froze in their tracks. Mr. Cofran warily held is gun close.

"Could it be a dog like the one we saw?" Mr. Pietro asked, his eyes darting around, expecting to see a whole pack of feral mutts.

Jason walked closer to the run-down station and glanced inside.

"I think we're fine," he smiled and beckoned for the others to join him.

They all looked into the window and saw a German Shepherd laying on top of a large tire, a blanket stuffed inside the hole for a makeshift bed.

Jason whistled and the dog looked up, his ears attentive and watched as Jason slowly climbed through the window.

"Come here boy," he slowly walked towards the dog, pulling out a can of Cram he had found from the vault.

It stood from the tire and stretched, yawned and made a curious whine. It slowly walked up to him and let Jason's hand rest on his head, panting as Jason started to scratch behind his ears.

"Guess he's a friendly mutt aren't you?" Jason smiled and set down the can of food for the dog.

"I wonder where his owner is," Annalee looked around at all the hanging tools and miscellaneous supplies. She'd definitely have to go back later.

"I'm afraid we may have met the man on our way here," Mr. Pietro stated, shaking his head.

"Poor man," Mr. Cofran added, and they both turned towards the road headed for Concord.

"Are you coming?" Annalee looked at Jason and the dog.

"Yeah," he stood and opened the sliding door from the inside.

He turned to the Dog and patted his knees.

"Come here, boy."

The dog tilted his head, his tongue hanging out, unresponsive.

Jason whistled and patted again, calling out to him.

"Your owner's not coming back. I'm sorry," Jason softly spoke and looked once more towards the Shepherd.

"If only he could understand you," Annalee said.

"If only," Jason sighed and straightened up, stepping away from the station, "I can't convince him to do anything."

"Alright," Annalee walked on.

They walked away for a minute and met up with the other two neighbors, standing at a crossroads that both headed into Concord.

"Which should we take?" Mr. Cofran asked.

"Well, I think we should take the left-" Mr. Dipietro started to talk, but his words became drowned out by a loud droning noise in the air.

"What the hell?" Mr Cofron and the others looked around and saw a giant insect darting towards them above the brush nearby. A large proboscis stuck out as it's mouth, signifying to the pre-war relics that it was descended from the common mosquito.

Mr. Cofran hastily tried to cock his gun, but he didn't have any time before a large mass sprung up from the side of the bug, knocking it into the ground.

The German Shepherd from before had leapt onto the giant bug and crushed it into a oozing, bleeding mess in the dirt.

"Hey, he followed us!" Jason sprung out of his trance from witnessing the bloodbug, and approached the dog, starting to praise him for his kill.

"It's a good thing too," Annalee curled her lip, imagining what that giant bloodsucker could have done to any of them.

"Alright, let's keep moving," she started the group again down the road and into the ruins of what used to be Concord.

Stores, apartments, and all sorts of buildings lined the street in ruins, walls and roofs caved in and falling apart, one hole at a time. Debris and an occasional skeleton littered the streets, as well as the countless pieces of paper that whirled about in the post-nuclear breeze.

"I still can't believe it's all gone," Jason spoke as they all occasionally glanced up at the abandoned and boarded up buildings.

As they walked closer to the center of the city, gunshots echoed out from ahead. A few explosions sounded off and the group immediately walked over from out of the middle of the street, all of them suddenly feeling extremely exposed and vulnerable.

"So, uh, has anyone fought before?" Jason whispered to the others, glancing at Mr. Cofran's shaking hands holding his ten-millimeter pistol.

They all shook their heads, the realization of this making their eyes go wide with fear.

"So no one in our group has. Just great." He shook his head.

They crept closer to where the gunfire was taking place and peered around the street corner. The action all seemed to be centered around one building in particular- The Museum of Freedom.

People with makeshift leather armor and crude looking pistols were all hiding behind some sort of cover, whether it was a wall of sandbags or the insides of buildings nearby. A man peered behind cover on top of the Museum and occasionally fired back at the hostile crowd below. The loud crack of his laser weapon echoed out into the street among the yelling and popping of gunfire below.

"What do we do?" Mr. Pietro whispered his sweat beading down his face and onto his vault-suit. He wishes he had the same armor the people in the streets had.

"I don't know, how do we know what side is good or not?" Mr. Cofran asked.

"We ask politely Cofran," Annalee nudged him with her elbow and chuckled.

He shooed her away, frowning, "This is a serious matter. We could die!"

"Well, we won't know unless we stop hiding," Annalee stepped away from them and took in a deep breath.

"Um, Anna," Jason turned to her and held her shoulders, stopping her, "What are you thinking of doing. You're not going to go out there are you? They're in the middle of an intense fight."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes. To be honest, I am quite scared."

Mr. Pietro stepped back folding his arms, "you seemed pretty courageous back in the vault against those roach creatures. I thought you would lead us once we were here."

"Why? Because I'm tall? I was just trying to not panic after we woke up. This is different. I was an actor before the war, not a soldier! I never actually fought anyone in my movies!"

"Um, guys?" Cofran said, pointing his gun out towards the street.

"What?" Annalee and the rest turned to the frightened man.

"I think they've spotted us-"

Shots rang out and they all jumped inside the store next to them.

"Look what we have over here!" A loud, leering female voice yelled from outside.

"What is it Rouge?" A man asked.

"Looks like a couple of dumb vault dwellers! Easy prey..."

Annalee looked at the others, horror etched into each of their features.

"We know who's bad now?" She smiled sheepishly and they all jumped up from their hiding spot and ran up the stairs, only to find another man there, aiming towards the museum.

"Who's there?" He swiveled around, but before he could pull the trigger, Jason ran up to him and grabbed the gun in his hands, pointing it up towards the sky and kicked him square in the chest.

The man cried out and fell off onto the street flat on his back, the gun still in Jason's hands.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the stairs.

"Fight!" Jason yelled and started firing as the raiders came into view from the staircase.

They cried out and fell onto the floor, bullet holes riddling their chests and piercing vital organs in an unorganized manner.

"Hey, looks like we got some company!" The raiders on the street turned towards the new shots fired.

"Get 'em!"

Annalee scrambled towards the two who had just died and found their pistols still in their hands. She grabbed both of them and handed one into the hands of Mr. Pietro, forcing him to carry it.

"I c-can't do this-" He started to say, but bullets flied past his head and he crouched down, crying out.

Jason tried returning fire, but his pistol soon became empty, as each shot had little chance of accurately hitting his targets. He fumbled with the magazine, trying to remember what he had done during a scene from one of his movies. He glanced quickly at the others, spotting Mr. Cofran moving closer to the window to shoot out again.

"Get out of there, they'll see you!" Jason screamed at him, but he was too late.

A storm of bullets ripped through the air, multiple impaling themselves into Mr. Cofrans chest. One stray bullet lodged itself into his head, his skull fracturing apart and his brain fluids and blood spurting out as the impact of the bullet tore through his face.

He fell to the floor, instantly lifeless.

Annalee screamed and Mr. Pietro vomited.

Jason finally reloaded and couldn't think of the scene he just witnessed. The image of Mr. Cofran's head exploding turned his vision red and all he could think about was the gunpowder coating his hands and the bullets leaving his pistol as he shot blankly into the crowd.

Annalee tried to breathe and she looked downstairs, waiting for anyone to cross her view, shooting at those who tried to ascend to the second level.

Mr. Pietro fell to his knees, shaking. His eyes widened and twitched with every shot he heard. He glanced towards his two fellow vault dwellers and the dog who hid behind them. He stumbled up from his hands and knees and ran, never looking back at the decapitated corpse of Mr. Cofran. He ran out of the store and down a different street, away from the maniacs in armor. He could hear the bullets whiz past him, but he kept running, never looking back. He didn't notice he was still holding the pistol he never wanted in the first place.

He never returned to Sanctuary.

Jason and Annalee wordlessly exited the store after taking care of the last few raiders in the street. They left Mr. Cofran's body upstairs, stepping over the pool of blood seeping into the wood floor.

"Hey, you! Down there!"

They heard a voice cry out, belonging to the man who had been making a stand against the raiders by firing from the balcony of the museum.

"We need more help! There are more raiders inside! Grab whatever ammo and stimpacks you can and help us!"

Annalee looked wearily at Jason, but he only shrugged, an empty look in his eyes, and started to bend down and rifle through the clothes of the dead bodies on the street.

The dog followed Jason and Annalee as they entered the doors of the Museum, unprepared for what was on the other side.

Deacon had followed the small group into Concord. He had left his shelter near the vault after he realized that the dwellers would reside in the run-down neighborhood below. It was a smart choice for a new settlement, since the only troubles in the area were the occasional mutated bug or raiders in Concord. The latter being taken care of already by the splinter group who had left. He made sure to stay away from the main fighting. He didn't want to get involved or noticed, as they would probably remember him, since he would be the first non-hostile person they would have met.

No, he stayed away, just far enough to not be noticed by the dwellers or the raiders, but watch the street below.

The fact that they were still alive after fighting the raiders surprised him, but raiders were small compared to the other dangers of the commonwealth.

He waited on the church roof, hidden behind the peeling white walls of the tower. They had entered the museum of freedom, helping the settlers trapped inside the building.

He recognized the man on the balcony. From his view, he could only see his outfit and hat, but from what he could tell, the man had been wearing classic Minutemen attire and firing the laser rifle, a staple of the Minutemen ranks.

He didn't know they were still alive after what happened at Quincy.


	3. New Settlers, New Suit

They walked into the museum, and dust flew up around each footstep. Gunfire still filled the air, but it sounded distant, musty along with every other object in the main room. The museum had an open floor plan, each floor visible from where they stood, and a makeshift walkway connecting the opposite sides of the second floor.

A raider or two stood on top of the walkway, shooting towards the doors on the third floor that must have led to the endangered settlers.

"We have to help them," Annalee turned to Jason, her eyes determined.

"We're just going to end up like.... Mr. Cofran..." he said, shifting his stance.

Luckily none of the raiders above had noticed them enter the building.

Annalee started walking away to the wall and entered the side room without answering him. He silently cursed and followed her.

They passed through a revolutionary war room, mannequins in replica uniforms surrounding the room, holding props against the setting of an 18th century Boston.

A pre-recorded voice guide spoke up and Annalee squeaked, surprised by the voice.

"Shhh!" Jason grabbed her arm and held his finger to his lips.

"Hey, did you hear something? Something set off the exhibit..." A gruff voice came from the room ahead.

"Then check it out dumb-ass."

"No need to be a jerk, I'm just curious, geez," the man's voice sounded closer and Jason swiveled around, looking for a hiding place.

He jumped behind one of the wooden crates, but Annalee was still standing out in the open.

"Anna!" He whispered furiously, but she didn't hear him.

She took a deep breath and cocked the pistol in her hand, watching the shadow of the man get closer in the hallway.

Shattering the silence, her pistol shot the man as he turned around the corner, foolish enough not to take cover before he walked out of the hallway.

"Hey!" The other man ran towards the sound and Annalee finally got out of the entrance and stood to the side of the door, her hands shaking.

She had just murdered someone. She felt the blood rush to her head as she thought of the life she just took with the pull of a trigger. It hadn't bothered her out in the street but waiting in ambush for someone seemed to cause her to break down.

Which wasn't the best option for her right then because the other raider was walking down the hallway, crouching low as he approached the room they were in.

Her chest heaved as she tried to quiet her breathing and the man finally got to the end of the hallway. He slowly looked around the corner and pulled his gun at Annalee, about to shoot up at her until his head exploded, Jason firing at him from behind the wooden crate.

Annalee looked at him still out of breath from her moment of panic.

"Thanks."

"No need. You're lucky I didn't accidentally shoot you as well," he hopped over the crates and they started down the hallway again, stepping over the bodies of the men they had killed.

Jason noticed a shotgun on the corpse of the first man who had tried investigating, and he picked it up along with a half-empty box of shells. Who knew if it would come in handy later.

They kept walking and another room had two raiders in it.

Before he could stop him, the dog ran into the room snarling and bit into the leg of a metal-armored woman.

"Hey!-" She cried out and tried kicking the dog, but Jason and Annalee quickly took care of the two.

It soon became a routine of picking the corpses for ammo after they shot someone. A few of the bodies had small pouches of Nuka-Cola caps in their clothes, but they both brushed past them, seeing no value in them.

They walked up a flight of stairs and made their way across, trying to shoot at the raiders who had taken up their posts on the walkway on the second floor. Jason was able to hit one by accident in the foot and he fell off, landing on his neck. Annalee was having trouble targeting the other man, who started to shoot back at her, causing the wood near her cover to splinter and spit out dust and smaller particles. She finally hit him square in the chest and he fell onto the walkway, face down.

She waited until she could tell he was no longer moving and they both quickly crossed the stairway and made their way towards the third floor, where the settlers were holed up.

They stopped, hearing more voices behind doors that would lead them to the settlers, and this time, Jason held onto the dog by his side.

"Open up! You can't stay in there forever!" A man banged on a door and growled.

"Hey, why don't we just leave? Someone has started to shoot up the place-"

"You are a fucking coward, you know that? Scared of some lone wastelander? Get a grip man and take 'em out already."

A man hastily entered the room, grumbling to himself and turned to them, spotting them at the top of the stairs. He reached for his gun, but he was too late, as Jason emptied out his magazine into the man's body, not caring anymore to try and aim.

The last raider was harder to beat. Before they had known it, the man had thrown a fragmentation grenade their way, curving his throw so it would enter the open doorway.

Annalee watched as it rolled onto the floor and they both went wide-eyed and dove away as it exploded, the wooden floor beneath it shattering everywhere.

She cried out as a wood splinter pierced her thigh and Jason heard his dog whine out as smaller pieces embedded into his coat of fur.

The man rushed in after taking them by surprise and Annalee didn't have any time to run as she struggled to stand up from the floor.

"Got you, bitch!"

The man shot at her and she struggled to get away, a bullet barely missing her head. She cried out and Jason stood, whipping out the shotgun and blasting it into the man's face. The shells exploded in his flesh and tore it apart at such a close range, dropping him the floor. The shotgun ripped from his hands at the recoil and clammered off to the side, firing again at the floor's impact.

Annalee held her arms up to her face, but luckily it had been facing the other way when it had accidentally misfired.

"Jason!"

"Annalee, are you ok! I am so sorry!" He ran to her and helped her up until he noticed her leg was bleeding.

"Hey, you're hurt," he stopped and leaned down as she stood on her other leg.

"It's fine, it's just a little splinter, that's all. I'll bind it later, let's just go check on those settlers."

She started walking towards the door, leaving him behind to check on the German Shepherd. Who knew that dog would be such a fighter?

She knocked on the door with her fist.

"Hello? You called for help. Well, we did!"

A woman with an Asian accent spoke up.

"How do we know you aren't one of those raiders come to kill us?"

"Marcy," a man spoke up, his voice smooth and low, "I'm pretty sure it's those vault dwellers who arrived in town. Open the door will you?"

"Fine, but it's your fault if we're killed," she scoffed.

The door opened and the group of three entered what seemed to be a dusty, pre-war office.

Marcy walked away from the door, not even acknowledging the newcomers as she went to lean against a wall, folding her arms as she did.

One weary-looking man sat on the floor, huddled to himself as if he were extremely cold, and another stood at a working terminal, trying to hack into it.

An old woman sat on the couch, wearing a light blue headwrap and necklaces of beads. She smiled, her wrinkled mouth closed and her bloodshot blue eyes watching Annalee's every move.

The man with the smooth voice walked up to them and shook their hands, his smile a bright contrast to his dark skin. He wore a brown weathered hat that folded up on one side and a long tan coat with layers underneath. He held a long rifle in his arm and stood it next to his feet.

"So you're the ones who saved our lives. I can't thank you enough. And you're vault dwellers too!"

"You know who we are? How?" Jason asked.

"Well, those are vault suits, right?" The man questioned, still smiling.

"I guess so, but that means there are other people from vaults out here right? Others survived?"

"I don't know where you're from. But a whole lot of people survived the Great War other than just raiders, vault dwellers and us. Man, you guys are really straight out of a vault aren't you. What are your names?"

"I'm Annalee and this is Jason."

"I see you've found Dogmeat as well..." the old woman finally spoke, beckoning towards the German Shepherd, who promptly walked over and let her pet him and take out the small pieces of wood that had pinched into his fur.

"Dogmeat? Was this your dog?" Jason asked, turning to her. He didn't want to let the dog go.

"No, I just know he's a special dog, and will stay loyal to you, won't you boy?" She laughed and pet Dogmeat who leaned against her legs.

"Who are you all? How did you become stuck here?" Annalee turned the man with the laser rifle, as he was clearly the leader.

"My name is Preston Garvey, a Minuteman and at your service," he lifted his hat at her and smiled, "And these are my friends-"

Marcy scoffed.

"-My friends. That's Jun and Marcy Long, well, you've already spoken to Marcy."

"And that's Mama Murphy, and then Sturges, who's trying to get into that Terminal-"

"And failing miserably," Sturges finally looked up from the screen and turned towards them, leaning against the desk. He spoke in a thick southern accent and his black hair was greased back pompadour style.

"Why?" Jason asked.

"Well, there's a vertibird up there on the roof with a nice cherry power armor. We've located a fusion core in the basement, but its locked behind a security cage. There'll probably be more raiders soon so we need that suit to get out of here. 'Looks like you two have already gone through a lot just clearin out this here museum."

"Tell me about it," Annalee groaned, reminding her of the scratch in her thigh and the small amount of blood that had grown.

"H-hey, looks like you need to, uh, bind that w-wound," Jun Long finally spoke up and pointed at her leg.

"Does anyone know how to?"

"I c-can help," Jun whispered and pulled out bandages from a sack behind him.

"At least you can do something useful," Marcy sneered, "Too bad you couldn't save the people who matter."

He winced at her words as if they had pierced his heart, but he started making a binding around Annalee's thigh.

"There," he whispered and went back to his seat on the floor, back into his closed position.

"Sturges, I bet I could take a look at that terminal for you," She turned towards him, not wanting to get involved in whatever uncomfortable pasts the Longs had.

"Really? That'd be great if you managed to crack it. Save us a lot of time instead of us having to pick the museum clean lookin' for a key card or password or somethin'," he smiled and took a step back from the desk, allowing her to walk forward and start typing away trying to decode the password.

"So, uh, Annalee?" Jason stepped up to her side as she started to work on hacking in.

"I don't know what you were working as before all this happened? Were you just at home with your son?-"

"No, I had a job as a mechanical engineer. We used a lot of these terminals in the old company I worked for."

"Mechanical what-now? Company?" Preston inquired, "I didn't know companies were still around. Where are you from? Was it from the vault?"

Annalee looked up at Jason and stared into his eyes, both of them deciding to tell the settlers about their situation.

"You tell them, I need to work on this," Annalee said and turned back to the screen.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck as he started to explain.

"The thing is, we were frozen in the vault. We didn't know we would be. The bombs had just fallen and we were taken into the vault. We just recently woke up."

"Wait," Preston froze at a loss for words, "you mean....?"

"Yep," Annalee spoke up as the screen logged in and she opened the security door remotely, "We are around 200 years old."

"Woah, you got it!" Sturges exclaimed, looking at the screen.

"You're excited about that, but not that they are living relics?" Marcy complained.

"No, that's incredible too. I'm just excited I'm not the only handyman around here," he chuckled and slapped Annalee on the back.

"Ok, we'll have to talk and let you two have the ability to catch up with the world later. For now, we have to focus on getting out of here," Preston turned to the group.

"Where are you planning on going after this?" Jason placed his hands on his hips.

"Mama Murphy had one of her so-called 'visions", Marcy stated, her tone cold, "I think she is just a junkie leading us straight to our deaths."

Mama Murphy smiled sadly and shook her head.

"The Sight leads me, Marcy," she looked up towards the woman, "Whether I'm crazy or not, the place called Sanctuary is where we need to be. It will become our new home, just as it had been for Annalee here, and maybe even Jason, if things could have turned out differently," Mama Murphy turned to them and reached for Annalee's hand.

Annalee let her take it, feeling her wrinkled skin against her own.

"You have a long, painful journey ahead of you sweet Annalee. You need to keep your friends close to you."

"What do you know Mama?"

"Nothing," Marcy laughed, "she's a chem addict. Don't listen to her."

Annalee glared at Marcy, the woman's caustic attitude starting to get on her nerves.

"I know you are looking for someone. A child. You won't find him here or in Sanctuary dear. You need to go to Diamond City and find the man who is lost."

"The man... who is lost? How will that help me?"

"I don't know everything dear, but I do have one warning. Something evil is coming, dear, and it's not to be trifled with lightly."

Mama Murphy let go of her hand and continued to stare into her eyes, sending a last warning for the blue-haired vault dweller. Annalee felt shivers run down her back and stay there.

"Let's go," Jason spoke up, breaking her out of her trance.

"Alright," she turned to walk out of the room towards the fusion core downstairs, turning once more to the weary group of settlers.

"I'll keep an eye from the balcony when you go onto the roof, in case more raiders to turn up," Preston picked up his rifle, his smile replaced with a seriousness that did little to settle her nerves.


	4. A Fight Against Death

Deacon sat in the top of the church tower, polishing his sunglasses until he heard the door on the roof of the museum open. He quickly put his shades back on and crouched down, making sure there would be no possible way that they would spot him from his vantage point.

He breathed quietly and tried to listen to the conversation on the neighboring rooftop.

"Are you sure you know how to work these things? Just because Nate knew doesn't mean that knowledge is transferred to you-"

"It's not just because Nate was in the army. I know machines and this is just a machine you wear. Do you know all the parts it's made of? Do you know the lifespan of a fusion core? What about the molecular structure of the metal used to make the frame light enough to maneuver in?" A female voice answered. Probably the blue-haired vault dweller. He had seen a set of power armor on the roof near the crashed vertibird. Were they thinking of using it?

These vault dwellers were not typical sheltered people. Too bad the other two had either ran off or died. What interesting new variables they played.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'll go downstairs and help you from the ground." The man answered and he could hear the door opening and closing once again.

Deacon peered up from the top of the church and watched the woman enter the suit of armor. The inside of the frame looked a little snug for a woman her size, but she managed to fit inside and move the limbs with ease. She ripped the minigun from the vertibird and went straight into action once the raiders on the street spotted her as she walked up to the roof's edge.

He watched, amused, as she let herself fall from the roof, hopefully landing on her feet. The suit made a giant crash as the heavy metal hit the ground, but like all suits of power armor, it protected her from any damage.

He couldn't see what was right in front of the museum, but he assumed from all the yelling and gunshots, an intense battle was going on down below. He could see farther down the street where a few more raiders walked towards the battle, joining in the fight. Not like they could do any good though against a power-armored vault dweller.

He watched as she made her way down the street, gunning down any raider in her way with the minigun, the raider's bodies being torn to shreds by the high-speed bullets pelting into them. Deacon could hear the thuds of her walking in the suit and the high-speed whirring of the minigun in her arms. Until everything stopped. He strained his eyes and could tell that the raiders had all been taken care of, but the bloodshed and the fighting had stopped so abruptly that he felt it just couldn't be over.

A giant thud echoed out from all the streets, similar to the sound of her dropping from the roof, but this time it was lower and had a depth to it that seemed to rattle his nerves. It wasn't the vault dweller that had made the noise.

Another thud rang out and he unconsciously leaned forward, trying to find out its origin. He could see the two vault dwellers in the street, looking around as well. Until, finally, it arrived.

A large metal covering in the street burst open, the thudding noise now the clanging of the heavy iron clambering onto the concrete. A monster larger than a truck climbed out of the hole and let out a roar from deep within its scaly chest.

"Shit," Deacon drew in his breath as he watched the creature exit from below and spot the two vault dwellers in the street. A deathclaw. One of, if not the most, vicious mutated creatures in the wasteland.

It lumbered towards them, its spiny back hunched and it's long arms almost dragging across the concrete. It smelled blood. It leaned down and nudged the body of a raider with its snout, licking at the puddle of blood pooling out of the corpses. Those dwellers could die.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. All of his recon for nothing. What had become small ounces of hope for new allies had turned into a few more victims of the wasteland. He should just get out of there while he could. Maybe even warn those inside somehow about the monster in the street.

He turned to look once again. He had to see what happened next.

The Deathclaw sniffed the air and looked directly at the two in the street. It snarled and licked its teeth with its long tongue. It started walking towards them and picked up its pace, ready to hunt live prey.

He heard the minigun whirring up again and the woman in the power armor actually started to shoot at it! He couldn't believe it! A vault dweller, new to the wasteland, taking on the most fearsome creatures yet. Maybe she was just dumb- it's not like she knew the lethality of the creature.

The rain of bullets coming from the minigun only seemed to anger the beast, even if one or two managed to lodge into its thick scales. It launched itself at her, throwing her back a few feet. The man started to run. A smart move, Deacon thought, as the other dweller didn't have the protection the woman did.

He ran, but it only caught the attention of the Deathclaw who then turned to the moving target, as the woman was struggling to stand in the heavy armor.

"SHIT!" He could hear the man scream, even from where Deacon was hiding on the roof.

The woman managed to catch onto the tail of the beast as it tried to catch the man, slowing it down for a few precious seconds that the man needed in order to escape.

It turned around to claw at the woman, but she had lifted up her minigun from the floor, and with one hand, she held onto the trigger, shredding the high-speed projectiles straight into the deathclaw's face.

It staggered back, screeching and shaking its head, it's vision clearly impaired. It reached again, blindly now, and threw the minigun out from her hands and into a wall seven feet away. She wouldn't have any time to reach it now. She pulled a pistol out from a compartment on her leg but her single shots had no effect as the monster charged into her, pushing her back into the ground. It stepped to the side, accidentally smashing her wooden pipe-pistol into small pieces, beyond repair. She screamed as it clawed into the armor's shoulders, picking her up from her upper body and slamming her back down again onto the pavement.

The power armor could only do so much protection.

It hit her again and again and suddenly one of her arm pieces fell off, exposing the frame. It clawed again at her arm. She must have pulled her arm to her chest to avoid the claws that slipped through the underlying framework since Deacon didn't her scream from agony.

It leaned down and ferociously bit onto the helmet, and the metal starting to bend within its jaws.

Suddenly, the man who had run into the shop next to her for cover lept out, a large double-barrel shotgun in his hands. He aimed at the Deathclaw who was trying to gnaw her face off and shot, the large bang ringing out into the street.

But he had missed. At such a close range, the shell had not exploded right into its face but had careened into the top and side, ripping off one of its horns clean off.

It swiveled towards him and before he even had the chance to raise his arms in protection, it swiped at the man.

The man was actually lucky to not have raised his arms, Deacon recounted. If he had, then the weak flesh and muscles of the arm would have been completely ripped off, either painfully stripping it to the bone, or ripping off the whole limb altogether. He was lucky. Not many survived an attack by a Deathclaw.

What did happen to the unfortunate dweller was his face. His whole face. By slight chance, the man had happened to lean back, anticipating the retaliation. He didn't seem to lose any eyeballs, or at least from what Deacon could tell.

The man was thrown back a couple feet only to land in the dust, face down and writhing on the floor, undoubtedly in incredible pain and shock.

The woman reached for the shotgun and drew it up from below the monster's face, shooting once more into the deathclaw, this time hitting the jackpot. It blew straight through underneath the chin and up into its skull, and parts of brains spurted out of the fractured top.

It collapsed down onto her and she cried out, frantically trying to get out of the bloody mess above her.

Deacon relaxed a bit in his seat, letting go of his tight grip on the ledge that he hadn't noticed until then. Was this what watching pre-war movies were like? Because as sick as he admitted, the whole fight was an incredible scene to watch!

He observed the woman finally free herself from below the beast and run towards the man in the ground, who clutched at his face, still crying out.

She hoisted him onto his feet and carried him back towards the museum entrance, yelling out for the settlers inside to help her.

Deacon started to pack up his small assortment of items into his bag and holstered his pistol he had hoped he didn't need to use against any stray raider... or Deathclaw.

He stood, still crouched, and started descending the spiral staircase from the steeple of the church, ready to find a new place to collect information on the new group of vault dwellers. No matter the answers he would find, he knew that whoever had those two on their side would have an advantage.


	5. The Widow

Annalee managed to pull Jason onto the front steps of the Museum, but she couldn't go on any longer, both her body sore from the earlier fight with that monstrosity, and her earlier injuries from the raiders.

"Help me please! Jason's hurt! We need to go now!!" She cried out, not wanting to set him down onto the floor where his wounds would get even dirtier.

"Sturges?! Preston?!" She screamed, but the dented helmet made her slightly muffled. She groaned and tried pulling him up another step and reached over with her leg, pounding on the doors as though she were frantically knocking.

Preston finally burst out of the Museum, a wide smile on his face, "You actually beat the Deathclaw- I can't believe it-" he froze mid-appraisal after noticing the state the two were in.

Jason writhed in her arms, trying to escape her grasp, wanting to touch and scrape at his face as blood covered his eyes, mouth and nose. He breathed heavily and spat often, as blood would drip into onto his lips and into his mouth like poison.

"Please-" she sobbed, noticing only now that tears were streaming down her face, "help him."

"Jun, get a stimpack or two out of my bag and hurry! Mama Murphy, we need your head wrap!"

Jun returned to Preston's side with two stimpacks in his hand, while Mama Murphy quickly hobbled over as fast as her old legs would let her and unravelled the scarf from on top of her head, revealing short white hair.

She and Preston carefully laid him down on the steps and Preston pulled out a can of clean water from his inner coat pocket.

"Guess I won't be drinking this later," he laughed dryly as he started to drizzle water onto Jason's face.

Jason clenched up and Annalee held his arms down as he struggled underneath the two, as the water stung as it helped clean his wounds of blood and particles of dirt.

She tried not to look at his face, the gashes that tore his flesh making her sick to her stomach. Pieces of skin seemed to peel back from his wounds that continued to bleed, four large cuts across his face and a small piece of his right nostril missing.

Jun helped once again with the stimpacks.

"H-hopefully this will help him heal faster, and deal with- with the p-pain," Jun stuttered and drew back once he had finished, no longer wanting to share the close space they were taking above Jason.

With Mama Murphy's blue worn head-scarf, Preston started to bind it around Jason's face, hoping to help stop the bleeding and cover the wounds.

"He needs stitches badly, but I suggest we hurry to shelter in Sanctuary before we start trying to patch him up," Preston stated.

After they finished, Annalee finally started to breathe normally again and let her adrenaline wear away from both the fighting and caring over Jason. Jason also calmed down as well, his breathing stabilizing, but his jaw was still clenched tight at the pain. She reached up and took off her dented helmet to breathe fresher air.

"What did you call that thing?" Annalee finally looked up at Preston.

"That's called a Deathclaw. It's one of the most dangerous creatures in the wasteland."

"And is that what you call this place now? A wasteland?"

"Well, to be fair, everywhere is a wasteland now. Boston and the surrounding cities? We refer to them as the Commonwealth."

"Interesting," she stated, and looked down again at Jason, who was mumbling incoherently.

"So you're from before the war? What was it like?" Preston asked her.

"I.... I'd rather not talk about it right now," she said, looking away, "Well, we should probably get Jason back to Sanctuary and you all to safety. I don't want to find out what else is out here right now," she smiled sheepishly, her eyes darting back to Jason and then to the road.

Preston helped her pick Jason up, but he knew she had changed the topic on purpose. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk about that stuff yet.

They all started making their way down the road, occasionally stepping over pieces or bodies of raiders.

"I can't believe they took down a deathclaw," Sturges muttered to himself as they passed by the large dead mass of the creature.

"This might come in handy," Mama Murphy chuckled and picked up the horn that had been blown off.

They continued up the road, passing by the Red Rocket Truck stop where they had found Dogmeat. The dog followed closely behind Annalee and Preston as they carried Jason back to Sanctuary. He whined, not knowing why his newfound companion wasn't walking himself.

They finally crossed the bridge and entered the neighborhood. They walked down the road until they stopped at Mr. Petrio's old house right across Annalee's old home. The other neighbors were all huddled together under the open garage, waiting for them to return, not knowing what to do with themselves in their broken down homes.

"There are other people here?" Preston exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"These are the rest of the vault dwellers, frozen with us," Annalee stated.

Her neighbors finally spotted them and left the small fireplace they had built in the driveway, crying out with excitement that they had returned with help from Concord.

"Annalee, oh darling, you're back!" Mrs. Cofran ran up to her and patted her cheek until she stopped, suddenly looking down at Jason, "What happened to him?"

"We ran into some intense fighting. A Deathclaw in fact." Annalee answered as they laid him down on a mattress.

Mrs. Cofran looked at the small rag-tag group of settlers accompanying them, straining her neck to see if her husband was tagging along in the back.

"Where are the others? Who are these people?" She walked in front of Annalee and stopped her in her tracks, "Where is my husband?"

Annalee bit her tongue, briefly reminded of his untimely death in the abandoned building in Concord. His quick, but violent, demise.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking at the ground, unable to look Mrs. Cofran in the eye.

"What does she mean, Mom?" Cindy spoke up, as more of the vault dwellers approached the group, wary at the sight of new people.

"I told him h-he shouldn't-" Mrs. Cofran grabbed her daughter and held her tight, sobbing uncontrollably, trying to comfort her daughter who hadn't had the time to fully process their small family's loss.

She turned towards the power-armored woman.

"Where did you get that armor young lady?" She glared at Annalee, a menacing tone arising in her voice.

"What do you mean?" She answered, stepping back.

"It was on a rooftop mam," Sturges tried to step forward but Mrs. Cofran pushed him back.

"Don't you come near me you scoundrel! How do I know if you-" She pointed her finger in Annalee's face, "you didn't just murder my husband!"

"Hey, now wait just a minute-" Preston tried talking, but the other vault dwellers started to mumble amongst each other, frightened and afraid.

"You might have even tried to kill Jason as well! And what about poor Mr. Pietro? Did you kill him too you lying chinese communist bitch?!"

Mrs. Cofran lunged at Annalee, but Preston intervened, grabbing her from the side.

"Hey, get your hands off of her!" Mr. Able spoke up and punched Preston to the side.

"You aren't going to take over our neighborhood!" He swung again at him, but Preston dodged away, letting Mr. Able fall to the ground. The other vault dwellers began to yell along with Mr. Able.

"Please Stop! The truth is that your husband was killed by raiders in Concord, Molly!" Annalee yelled over Mrs. Cofran's sobs and her fists trying to pound onto her power armor, as well as the riled up group.

"And, if you don't recall, my family is from Japanese descent," Annalee growled.

"That doesn't prove anything," she turned to the others in the group, "We can't let her come back here and take over! She's going to kill us all. Have we even considered she was responsible for her own husb-"

Annalee's fist met Molly Cofran's face before she could even finish her sentence. In hindsight, she would later realize that it was overkill, her being in power armor and Mrs. Cofran being recently de-thawed and all, but she had heard enough. All her life people had tried to call her a communist or that her family were spies. They've commented on her weight and her face looking different. She had learned over the years to not care in the slightest over what people wanted to label her as. But she would not tolerate this grieving woman to blame her for her husband's death.

Everyone froze, unsure of what to do. The fire of Mrs. Cofran's words had disappeared and the remaining vault dwellers no longer looked like an angry mob, but a homeless group of people, lost and weak compared to even the smallest glimpse of danger she had seen in Concord.

Mrs. Cofran propped herself up in the dirt, sniffling and shooed her daughter away when Cindy tried to pull her up.

"I'm sorry Molly, but we both have been out of line this evening."

Annalee walked over, kneeled, and held out her hand.

"I was there when your husband was killed. We were cornered in a ruined building, while trying to save these men and women," she gestured to Preston and his company.

"I can assure you that the only thing he was thinking of when he died was of helping Jason and I, and returning home to you and your lovely daughter."

Molly wiped her bleeding nose, still casting her glance aside.

"I understand the pain of losing a husband," her voice started to break, "but we have to go on for them. Please, help me help these people. We've all gone through a terrible ordeal. Let's start over."

"I- I don't think I can," she sobbed.  
Annalee reached for her hand and pulled her up, leading her to Cindy's arms.

"Let's get to work people."

And with that, she walked away into the garage and exited the armor. She went to Jason's side and helped Jun as he started the stitching process.

Preston watched as the crowd settled down and returned to their homes or their lawns, either patching up walls or roofs, or trying to plant and tend the mutated vegetables that had grown wild in their 200 year absence.

He looked at Annalee, where she leaned down over Jason, holding his hand as he writhed in pain. Her blue hair was dirty and hung in a low, untidy ponytail over her large shoulders.

"I've never met anyone like you," he said as he walked behind her and watched Jun's work.

She glanced over her shoulder and gave a questioning look before looking back at Jason.

'I don't know what you're talking about. I punched a grieving widow in the face. That's a horrible thing to do."

"Maybe so, but what you said afterwards.... Would you consider joining the Minutemen?"

This time she turned around for good.

"What do you mean? I thought you were the last one?

"Guess we have that in common, since you all are some of the last normal people who lived before the war. And I saw you fight. I saw a fire in you when you killed that Deathclaw and punched that woman. Maybe you'll deny it, but you can fight."

"I'm sorry to tell you this Preston," she stood up and brushed her knees off, "but a woman like me can't fight. And whatever 'fire' you saw, was the last flame I had. It froze over in the vault when I watched my whole world get destroyed in front of me."

She started walking away, "-both literally and figuratively."

He sighed, not wanting to push her anymore than he had to.

Jason groaned, his face wincing as Jun finished the last stitch.

Despite what Marcy thought, this place could work as a settlement. He watched the vault dwellers begin to farm and rebuild, and felt something inside that he hadn't felt in years. Hope. The dream for a Sanctuary for the people of the Commonwealth had begun to come true. And whether Annalee acknowledged it or not, it had all started because of her. Each settler took her words to Mrs. Cofran to heart. They had luckily opened their arms to his small broken group. Something good had finally returned to the Wastelands of Boston.


	6. Violent Clientele

The remains of the United States of America festered for decades under the nuclear sun. Splintered groups all formed, trying to heal the land and its people in any way they could. Others emerged from the smoldering ashes and continued to spread the disease of violence. They killed and killed, but like a mutated bacteria, they always returned, just under different names and faces.

These were the raiders. No matter what location of the broken country you were in, the raiders would be there as well. No matter how many settlements people tried to build, there would always be a raider gang who terrorized caravans, stole people as slaves, and killed simple survivors without mercy.

Everyone was willing to kill to survive. Raiders were only the survivors who didn't care how far they had to go in order to live.

That's why Zora never wanted to stay in the Combat Zone as she grew older. Years past and her uncle remained the same; sitting at the same bar, frowning with his same old ghoulish scars.

Zora V. had decided one year that she had enough of the mundane routines of manning the Zone. She stole a large number of caps and left, not knowing who she would become, only that she was free to live for herself. 

Now she stood in front of the Zone again, three years after she had run away from her Uncle's bloodshot watch. He'd finally see who she had become.

She secured her shotgun on her back and made sure her two pipe pistols were loaded and holstered at her side and against her back. A brown hood rested around her head and a red bandana wrapped around her mouth, as she tried to hide as much of her face and skin as possible.

She wanted to surprise her dear old uncle.

Taking a deep raspy breath, she pushed open the door to the Zone. There was no going back now.

As always, a heavy layer of smoke wafted up in the air as the cigar smoking patrons huddled around the bar and other tables, mumbling and drinking with each other. 

A man she didn't recognize manned the bar and he was chatting up a woman who leaned in close, their voices a sultry murmur.

Tommy sat at the bar, looking around at the patrons and drinking a shot of whiskey. Good. It would be easier with him out in the open.   
Cait sat in the cage, just like when Zora had left. The fighter's arms were heavily bruised and blood dripped from her nose, but Zora could tell from the unconscious man in front of her, Cait had won.

She approached the bar and placed a small bundle of caps onto the scratched surface of the bar.

"Bartender?" She looked at the couple, still whispering in each others ears, the woman giggling occasionally.

"Bartender?" Zora coughed and jingled her caps in front of him, finally catching his attention.

"What? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" The man complained in a nasally voice with a thick Boston accent.

She turned to Tommy, "Are you fuckin serious? Your service is terrible."

Tommy glared at the Bartender, "Come on, show the woman some respect, she's one of our patrons," he gestured angrily at the man who finally whipped up a glass of vodka, slamming it down in front of her.

Tommy grumbled and wiped of stray drops of alcohol, finally looking at the newcomer.

"Or more like a new patron. I don't think I've seen you here before. Welcome to the Combat Zone."

"Finally. I take it that you're the owner?"  
Tommy grinned with pride, "You're right young lady."

Zora smiled. He didn't suspect a thing.   
She took out her pipe pistol and rested it on the counter as she started wiping it down.

"Woah, I don't know about where you're from, but we have a strict no gun policy at the bar and in the Zone. I can take your weapons from you and give them back when you decide to depart, how about that?"

She nodded towards the bartender, "Is he new? I thought you'd have a hardened bartender in such a fine establishment."

"Yes, he is new..." Tommy hesitantly answered.

"Who was the old one again.... Blaze? Where is he?" Zora tilted her head, enjoying watching the gears move in his head as he tried to understand where she was headed.

"Blaze worked here, but he died ten years ago.... How did you know him? I don't remember you from back then?"

"Oh, he was like an Uncle to me."

"What? Wait, no-"

"Yes. I'm back." She stood, pistol in hand, and pulled back her hood and bandana, smiling as he sat in shock.

"Y-you're... a ghoul? You left and- no you stole my caps-" He stuttered with his words and stood, stepping away from her, unnerved by her blank eyes and her cold smile.

"I guess turning into a ghoul runs in the family Uncle Tommy. And it's too bad Blaze died all those years ago, he was a better uncle than you were. And I'm not too fond of his replacement."

She turned around and looked at the bartender and emptied half her magazine into the woman who flirted with him. Her shots rang out and the woman barely opened her mouth to scream before she died, slumping over the bar.

The bartender screamed, stepping back in horror.

Tommy reached for her gun, but she whipped it around, bashing it into his head.

She then emptied her magazine into the bartender, laughing as she pulled the trigger.   
The patrons of the Zone screamed now, trying to run out, but froze as a group of raiders walked through the doorway, blocking the only exit they knew of.

"Everyone shut up!" Zora yelled over the chaos, straining her damaged vocal cords.

"This is how it's going to go down."

She walked over to her gang and paused, inspecting her raiders, then turning to look at the terrified crowd.

"Everyone's going to hand over all their caps and valuables."

They stood, frozen in fear.

"Don't make me yell again. We could kill you all and loot your bodies if you'd like."

With that, the customers all emptied their pockets and handed over their cigar boxes and cap rolls and bags. Many were flustered with embarrassment that they were powerless to stop the robbery. One even cried as the precious caps he earned from bets were all taken away.

"Thank you for cooperating. Now, my friends will make a pathway and you all can walk through it to the exit. Don't come back looking for your goods. I think me and my gang are going to be here for a long time." Zora motioned to her gang and they split down the middle.

They knew what their boss had planned.   
The patrons slowly walked past the menacing group of raiders, slightly confused as to why they were being let free.

Zora nodded at her gang, and they raised their weapons and started firing into the crowd. Screams rang out and multiple patrons fell dead in their tracks, and only a small few were able to run fast enough out of the door and into the Fens.

A raider or two started to run after them, but Zora barked an order to stop.

"We don't want all of them dead. Those few survivors will flee to Diamond city or Goodneighbor, or whatever rat's nest they find. They'll spread the word that the Combat Zone has new owners!"

The mangled Raiders yelled in victory, raising their guns, their blood pumping after their fresh kills.

"Boss," One stepped forward. He had wavy slicked back hair and sideburns, and a choppy shave that never seemed to disappear.

"What Walt?"

"What do you want us to do with those two?" He pointed behind her and she turned, spotting Cait kneeling down with Tommy, both of them hiding under the bar from any stray bullets from the massacre.

"Cait, glad of you to join us."

"Fuck you, Zora."

"Hmm you're not really my type," she smirked, enjoying the feeling of accomplishment. The Combat Zone was finally hers. She had the control she had wanted for years.

"Maybe..." she looked back at her gang and pulled aside the tallest, beefiest one, "maybe he is. How about you give us another one of your shows and fight my friend here."

"I'd rather die than become one of your playthings."

"I'm not giving you that luxury," Zora answered coldly.

The man walked over and gripped Cait by the arm, causing her to cry out and struggle against him. He pulled her, with difficulty, into the arena on the stage and threw her in, closing the gate behind him.

The raider's dispersed, exploring the Zone and all the goodies that came along with it.

"How could you?" Tommy spoke, leaning against the bar with a stained handkerchief against his forehead where she had gun-bashed him.

"I've been planning this for years, Uncle Tommy. I just had to build up a gang of my own in order to take what should have been mine all along."

"You're not my niece anymore. You stopped being family when you left this place for your greed. Your mother never wanted this for you. I tried, and I failed." Tommy sighed, knowing that nothing he could do would bring back his business or the people she had killed.

"Shut up. You've always been a coward. You never opened this place to real business like my gang here. You lost out on a whole lot of caps and power."

"I didn't want any power. This is my home, Zora-"

"And it still is! I let you live so you can keep on running this business. You play the entertainer and announcer while my gang and I let you live. It won't be that hard. You'll just have to deal with a more violent clientele," she smiled and started walking to the front row of worn out couches.

The two contestants both injected a dose of Psycho and cried out, pure adrenaline rushing through their veins.

Zora let Walt sit next to her, and they watched the two meatheads brawl under the harsh stage lighting, their sweat glinting off of their now-bloodied skin.

Everything was falling into place. Something good had finally been granted to her from the Wasteland.


	7. A New Raider

All was right in the Wasteland. For three years, Zora and her gang controlled the Combat Zone and the caps the fighting brought in. They upgraded their weapons and armor, and even began to building up an inventory of booze and chems. All was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

Zora laid across Walt's lap while another raider, Bear, sat near her feet on the plush red couch. She counted bags of caps and sipped on a Gwinnett Stout, yet her fingers couldn't stop twitching, discontent. It wasn't enough.

The other raiders were fine controlling the Zone and the surrounding Fens, but Walt and her closest comrades noticed the look in Zora's eyes whenever she counted the caps and ammo inventory. It was the same look in her ghoul-black eyes that she had when she looked to the glow of the lights of Diamond City, knowing there was always more that they could have. More she could control.

She tied up the bag and closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the arm of the couch.   
The doors of the combat zone opened, the guard letting in a small group of raiders in to trade. They purchased a few drinks from the bar then sat on the couch closest to Zora and Walt, murmuring together.

"-I've told you, this place is legit. It's like a raider oasis there. I heard about it from one of my friends who joined one of the gangs a while ago."

Zora opened one eye and looked over, her interest piqued.

"All you have to do is walk in and join. I heard they're always lookin' for traders or new raiders to join. I'm saying we should go. It's deal of a lifetime, I tell ya."

She sat up and turned to them.

"What is this place called?" She asked them, staring at them intently.

"What's it to you? It ain't none of your business bi-"

Bear shot up from his seat, his fist clenched and ready to pound the raider who disrespected their leader, but Zora held her hand up, stopping him.

"Wait, let him finish," she sat up and turned towards the small group, "go on, right where you left off."

He looked at her like she was missing a part of her brain and laughed.

"I was just sayin' it ain't none of your business bitch," He and his friends chuckled and drank their beer.

"Well, I'm the main business bitch here, and your 'raider oasis' sounds rather fascinating," she stood and approached him slowly, oozing charm.

"I think I want to take a trip there with some of my gang."

"Shit," he leaned back in his seat, sweat gleaming off of his balding head, as his friends snickered, waiting to see what happened to him next.

She leaned forward and rested her hand on his shoulder, her fingers digging into him. She pulled out her pistol and let his eyes roam over every groove on the barrel.

"You're going to take me to it."

She turned to Bear and Walt.

"Start packing my stuff and supplies. We're going on a vacation."

For the next three hours, Zora and her most trusted members of her circle packed cans of food and ammo, preparing for the trip. Zora's curiosity and boredom over the stagnant business of the Combat Zone had gotten the best of her, and now she couldn't stop thinking of what a "raider oasis" meant for her. She loaded her combat rifle and secured it to her side. She swung her packed bag over her shoulder and approached the bar where her company waited.

Bear straightened up, "We're ready, boss."  
He held a large bag of food and other supplies they would need on the journey. Their foulmouthed guide, Rex, stood next to him, his hands tied together with a rough cord, like a pack brahmin.

Bear chuckled at her gaze and hit their guide's back.

"Tied him myself."

"Don't worry rex," she grinned, "you'll return to the Zone if you want to once we reach our destination-" she turned to her companions, "-everyone ready?"

The others nodded or cried out, ready to taste blood in the Commonwealth again.

Walt approached the bar, setting his small bag onto the counter. He always preferred to travel light.

Zora pulled him aside, out of earshot of the others, and kissed him, both of their hands roaming in sinful ways.

She pushed him away, holding him back.

"Walt," she smiled and stared into his bloodshot hungry eyes, "I can't have you come with us."

He scowled and his grip hardened over her arms.

"Why not? You don't trust me? You're gonna leave me for Bear?"

She rolled her eyes and hit him playfully.

"No dummy, You-"

"I have been with you since the beginning Zora. And you just want to drop me like that?"

"Stop interrupting me, God you were always so dense. You're the only one I trust to handle the Zone when I'm gone. I can't leave it to my Uncle when I'm gone, can I?"

She turned him around to look at the zone, their eyes roaming over the seating areas and the bars, the shacks built up to the second level, and finally the hot lights shining onto the bloodstained stage, the crown-jewel of the Combat Zone.

"I'm no businessman boss," he glanced at her warily.

"I know. That's why Uncle Tommy can help you count the bets and supplies. But don't let him take advantage of you. He's smarter than you honey," she patted his cheek.

"Alright Zora," he leaned in and kissed her again, complimenting himself on how he now had a woman and power.

She let go and walked back to the group and they all started out towards the door.

She looked back once more at the Combat Zone, feeling the same sense of excitement from when she had left it the first time, before she had tasted the power and thrill of raiding.

——————————

They traveled in silence as they left the Combat Zone, each raider on high alert as they turned down the streets of the Fens, following Rex's directions to head west.

The Fens were quiet as the early night approached, besides the occasional distant gunshot or two. A heavy fog rolled throughout the streets and the back alley ways that they travelled.

"Hopefully this fog will stay, it's good cover," Whiplash said as her eyes darted back and forth between the dark empty windows and silhouettes of debris on the street.

"I suggest you all take a bit of rad-x," Zora turned to her gang, feeling the familiar tinge of radiation slightly warming the exposed ghoulish scars on her skin.

They continued to walk silently down the streets, until they turned sharply north. They didn't want to run into any Diamond City security that lined the streets if they continued west. They reached the waterfront and walked along buildings next to the river. Her eyes scanned the muddy splotches of ground near the water, carefully keeping watched for any mudcrab that could emerge. A mound or two moved slightly, but the mirelurks slept soundly underneath the cool moist dirt the fog had granted them.

They kept walking on the outskirts of the city, darkness enveloping their company. Nothing moved in the streets they passed and they finally reached a point in which the main city had fallen away and now residential houses or apartment ruins provided cover.

She noticed the drooping eyes of her gang and scanned the ruins until she found a boarded up house that they could camp in. She signalled to her gang and they all walked over.

"Bear, you do the honors?" She smiled at him and he pulled a rusted crowbar from his bag.   
He pried open the boards that covered the door and was about to walk in but she held out her hand, holding him back.

"Ready your melee weapons. I don't want to waste any ammo on the rodents or insects we might find in here, and I don't want to wake up anything else that might be worse."

They knew she referred to ferals, but they all obeyed and pulled out their knifes or pipe bars.   
She entered the one-story house, the air rancid and stiff. A skeleton laid on the couch. They all slowly entered, each going there separate way to clear the home. Luckily, nothing stirred in the skeleton of a home and they all set their bags down and Bear sat onto the couch.

"Who wants to take the first shift?"

Whiplash volunteered and set up her watch by moving a dresser in front of the open door way, since the door had rotted to nothing over the years.

Zora moved to one of the bedrooms and pushed the dirty mattress off of the splintered and uneven bed-frame. The silence of the musty room lulled her to sleep, her knife by her side.

——————————

She woke up with a shock, the darkness of the night surrounding the room.

Two hands tightly wrapped around her throat, closing off air form her lungs. Her body convulsed as she tried to struggle away. Her eyes watered and her chest burned as she tried clawing away the hands and arms of her attacker, but they were unrelenting.

Remembering her knife, she reached over for it, flailing in the dark to find the blade.

The cold metal pierced her thumb and just before she was about to succumb to the burning in her chest, she whipped the knife into the arms in front of her.

They cried out and jumped off of her, holding their arm in pain as blood started flowing down the gash.

Zora shot up as quickly as her dizzied state would allow her, and she ran out of the room, and the man followed her, stumbling against the walls.

Yelling rang throughout the house as her gang woke up to the cries and commotion. As soon as she could see from the dim light of the oil lanterns, she swiveled around to face her attacker.

Rex panted, gripping his arm.

"You bitch!" He lunged again but Bear tackled him to the ground, pounding his heavy fists into the small man's skull.

"Bear, don't kill him!" Zora ran to his side and stopped his fist in the air, stopping it from falling once more onto the near-unconscious man below him.

"Why not Zora?" Whiplash croaked, her pipe pistol in her hand as she snarled down at Rex.

"Don't question me," Zora glared at the woman.  
Rex started laughing on the floor before propping himself up.

"You... all need... me."

Zora rubbed her sore neck, her muscles sore from his attempt to kill her.

"Sadly at the moment, we do need this rat alive. He knows how to get to the so called 'oasis."

Bear slowly stood from over Rex, still scowling and imagining beating the small man to a bloody pulp, but the boss had given her orders.   
He grabbed Rex by the collar of his shirt before throwing him across the room to wear he would tie him up, only this time with stronger knots.

"Bear, it's your turn to keep watch. Don't kill him ok? You did such a good job tonight," Zora cupped his face and ran her thumb down his jawline.

Sucking the blood off of her thumb, she turned around and returned to her temporary bedroom, staring out into the darkness, her mind once again returning to the anticipation over her new raider endeavors.

**Author's Note:**

> Will publish a new chapter at least every month. Thanks for reading :)


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